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“I am putting the memoir on hold for now. I need a project to pour my soul into and that isn’t the right one. I’m too stuck on what actually happened. I need to write something else – something that I’m so in love with that I’m distracted from my real life. Being productive while escaping. This is my ideal scenario.

But what project? Politics makes sense, but how do I make it interesting? I don’t know how to write suspense, which is usually the genre a political title would fall under. Romance? Dull. How do I make it interesting and relevant and relatable? Ha, I’m not asking for much, am I?

I’m obviously just overthinking this. I should just begin. Like they all say: “Just sit down and start writing.”

I spend too much time thinking about me. I mean, thinking about my behavior or my feelings or my demons. I obsess because… well, I’m not sure. I need to start thinking about completely external things that are not at all associated with my personal life.

Well, that’s why the politics theme makes so much sense to me. It’s a recent interest (only 9 months old or less) so it doesn’t hurt when I think about it. It makes me excited and interested. The primary downside is that I know much less about politics than love so I have to put in time for research.

And the problem with researching has two parts: 1) I’m fucking lazy and 2) Where do I even start? I guess I have to ask myself more specific questions: What do I want to learn? What do I want to write about?

I never understood the brainstorming step in the writing process while I was in school. It never seemed to work for me. But that’s because I was focused on answers, not the questions. My mind would automatically skip that step and that was my mistake. Because figuring out those questions – the right ones – is way more difficult than filling in the answers. That part seems to be guided by instinct anyway.

Now, I have to brainstorm. I’ll know when the right story comes to me. I just have to keep writing and asking questions until I find it.”

I’ve only been an Eminem fan for 2 and a half years, a little after the release of his latest solo album, Recovery. “Love the Way You Lie” was my first favorite of his. There were a few factors that played into the beginning of my obsession with his music.

First, I had just separated from my husband for the final time. I have (and always will) immerse myself in music to escape from my thoughts. My history has many examples of this: Taking Back Sunday, Blue October, and P!nk (she’s fucking awesome). Three Days Grace is another really good example but damn, their music sucks nowadays.

The second reason was weed. I didn’t start smoking until the winter that Lance and I split. I really don’t think I would have appreciated rap music before I got high. In fact, I know I didn’t like rap or hip hop in my teenage/early adulthood. I thought it was just noise. But I got high and heard “Seduction” and everything clicked. I happily lost myself in his lyrics.

The final and most important piece is that Eminem is blow-your-goddamn-mind amazing. Lyrically, he’s displayed brilliance across every track he’s ever created. Not to say that every line is genius. I’m still flabbergasted at “like my old lady” in “Say What You Say.” Couldn’t come up with anything better than that filler? (Okay maybe not every song. I still can’t listen to the entirety of “Fack.”)

I am single now and I am grateful. I felt guilty during the end of my relationship with Josh because, even though I love him, I longed to be alone. I need to be alone right now. I moved into my mother’s house two weeks ago and I’m really enjoying it. It’s feels amazing to sleep alone and when I’m not working, I can do whatever I want. I know it’s selfish, but I fucking love the freedom.

I’m still working on the memoir, but I’ve made very little progress on the actual rewrites of the story. My mind war continues to be waged. I do have a beautiful cover (picture at bottom) and a new title: No Lies: A Memoir of Love & Deceit. I’ve made the decision that I will only change one name, my mother’s boyfriend/fiance, because, if he’s alive, he doesn’t deserve any backlash. Rob can go fuck himself. :)

I’ve also decided to publish this book under my maiden name and I’m considering reverting back to Wiseman legally as well. Hutzenbuhler was Lance’s last name and when we divorced, I just didn’t feel like Kailei Wiseman anymore because I had changed so much in our short marriage. As I discover more of myself, I don’t really feel like Kailei Hutzenbuhler either. My step-dad suggested just creating a new last name that suits me. I think it’ll be awhile before I make that decision.

I got an email last night from my editor with her notes on my recent work-in-progress. I haven’t talked much about this book because it’s so personal for me. It’s a true story and that makes it ridiculously difficult to get it right. Reality is all based on perception so I’m terrified I’ll get some “facts” wrong.

The story takes place while I was attending high school in Maryland and right now, it reads like a boring chronology. Sarah (my editor) articulated what I was feeling about the book – it lacks emotion. It lacks depth. This is because I am afraid. I am afraid I will write those emotions and then feel them as deeply as I did then. This man has wrecked me over and over, merely with the memories of our time together. We knew each other and talked as close friends for less than a year. It’s been 8 years since I saw his face. And pathetically, I let him haunt me still.

I always knew this would be my first book. Since it happened, I knew. I had to tell my side of it because I was silenced back then. I was told to lie, for his sake. But immediately after I left Maryland, I was still broken and couldn’t tell my tale yet. I got married and got divorced. I moved back to Maryland, six years after I fled, and even then, the pain was still too much for me to bear. I couldn’t face it all yet.

I only became brave enough to put it all down on paper in the last six months. I mean, I’ve tried to write the story a million times so I have snipits that I’ve compiled over the years. I wrote and tried to include everything that was important, but Sarah tells me I’m missing a lot of background and personality. She asked me about what music I listened to back then and it brought me to my reason for my superficial writing: I am afraid.

“We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty, and the pursuit of Happiness.”

Those words are from the United States’ Declaration of Independence and most of us know that last phrase, but have you ever stopped to think about what it really means? Both “Life” and “the pursuit of Happiness” are difficult to accurately define, which is why the Bill of Rights was created. I think our Founding Fathers wrote it that way intentionally, because how else can you pinpoint basic human rights? Some of it needed to be left to interpretation because they knew times would change. Life for our citizens would change so it would have been impossible to be specific and all-inclusive for future generations.

Even the phrase “all men are created equal” has had a fluid definition. At first, it meant “all white men,” but through societal changes, it means almost everyone now.

But Liberty is different. To me, it means freedom from government control. I believe our Fathers would agree. They envisioned a country that would support it’s people, not control or restrict them. My best friend defines Liberty as, “allowing people to do things that you don’t agree with.” In essence- the freedom of choice.

The recently renewed gun control debate has weighed heavily on my mind. On the one hand, it makes sense to ban large magazines and assault rifles because, in theory, it would protect our citizens from devastating mass-shootings. However, that line of thinking is motivated by fear and we cannot allow our minds to fall into that trap.

Gun control, gay marriage, marijuana… it’s all about the same thing: basic human rights. One side tells us we can’t and the other fights for the right to say we can. In my mind, each of these arguments is settled easily: Every person has the right to do whatever they want with their lives. We have the right to take poisonous drugs. We have the right to end our own life. We have the right to amass a shed full of weapons.

However, our rights stop when we harm others. It’s okay to have an arsenal, as long you don’t shoot anyone. It’s okay to shoot up heroin, as long as the needle is in your vein. When your desires negatively impact others, there should be consequences but there should not be consequences to “harming” ourselves. We have the right to make that choice.

The tricky thing about this subject is that both of our major political parties are looking to regulate our liberties. Most of our politicians in office right now want to restrict our rights according to their personal beliefs. I want it to be crystal clear: This is wrong. As a country, we need to move away from those constraining thoughts. We need to believe in Liberty again.

Enter Libertarians, what I like to call the “common sense” party. They believe in personal rights and responsibilities. Their slogan says it all: “Minimum Government, Maximum Freedom.” This is the time for us to say that we’ve had enough of the government infringing upon our liberties. This is our chance to manifest change in our country. “It can’t/won’t happen” is just an excuse not to try.

“That whenever any Form of Government becomes destructive of these ends, it is the Right of the People to alter or to abolish it, and to institute new Government, laying its foundation on such principles and organizing its powers in such form, as to them shall seem most likely to effect their Safety and Happiness.”

When I was a teenager, I kept a diary. But life got busy and I stopped journaling consistently. I’d write creatively sometimes, but journal entries were only written in times of crisis. I was a self-hater already and journaling made it worse because I would write about what a terrible person I was.

This is how the war was waged for years. I always knew that writing more often would keep my crazy in check, but I couldn’t make myself do it. My only experiences with journaling had been tragic so I was scared that I would be hurt again by my past. For a very long time, I thought I could only write when I was sad. That was the only time the words flowed.

I should stress that I view journaling and blogging very differently. It’s hard to be completely honest with yourself if your words are going to be seen by an audience. It’s like showering on stage, but worse. This is your soul you’re baring, not just skin, and it has the potential to reach millions of people. Scary.

At first, I started slowly, chronicling my days and my plans. After a couple of months (because I’m a slow learner), my writing became deep and soulful. I reflected on my past and was able to identify flaws in my character with clarity. Staring at physical proof of my mistakes was difficult, but it gave me a sort of peace I can’t quite describe.

Life is about being happy, right? And I believe true happiness comes from knowing yourself. I see the issues I have, but they don’t scare me anymore because I understand them.

I strongly recommend that everyone keeps a private journal. The rewards far exceed any risk. My advice is to start slow, with an “introduction” post detailing the basics of your life: your family and friends, work, school, whatever you feel is important. And from there, write whatever you want, without fear. Write whatever comes to mind, even if you don’t understand it. Journaling can lead to understanding.

And try to be as honest with yourself as possible. You will absolutely lie in those pages, but try to catch yourself when you do it. Examine what your thoughts mean and listen to your heart. You will be happier for it.

The novel has been been put on hold for now. I need to do more reflection on my past. There are still many dark corners I haven’t explored. I need to do a bit more growing and maturing before I can write these memoirs.

I have started writing a fiction series. The overall series will titled “Sex & Weed.” I think it’ll be categorized as New Adult in the Romance genre. At first, I was just getting to know a new character I’d been thinking about recently. I created her background and decided on all of the major character flaws/virtues she possesses. The story just came from there. There are so many of her stories that I want to tell so I believe this will end up being a series with 5 or more books. I’m planning for each book to be about 10,000 to 15,000 words for the first draft. I’ll probably end up cutting that in half before publishing.

I am pleasantly surprised by this new turn of events in my writing, but I’m also nervous about it. I’m unused to writing fiction (haven’t done it since high school) and I fear I am rusty. My dialogue is shitty and my transitions are awkward. I’m going to keep writing though and just have faith that eventually I’ll get better. Practice makes perfect and though it’s silly to strive for that, it’ll always be my goal.